First impressions

In a hospital room located beneath the training tower.

Winner's room, Jacob Barber.

Jacob continued eating his meal normally when suddenly his hands began to uncontrollably tremble. A shiver ran down his spine, and in an instant, he saw his hands covered in blood. The spoon he was holding fell to the floor, and the tray of food slipped from his trembling hands.

"Ahhhhhhh!" Unable to contain himself, Jacob let out a heart-wrenching scream that filled the room, releasing all the emotions he had kept repressed for so long.

"Damn it!"

The sound of his scream echoed in the air, creating an oppressive silence in the surroundings. It was only a few seconds, but for Jacob, it was a moment of pure catharsis, where all the accumulated emotions surfaced. It was a scream that carried the burden of death and survival, the weight of having been on the brink of death and facing countless difficulties.

When the scream finally faded away, Jacob turned his gaze to the Avox girl beside him. He realized that his reaction had frightened her, and immediately apologized, trying to regain his composure in that controlled environment.

He watched as the Avox girl skillfully and quickly cleaned up the mess he had caused. Her silent presence and dedication to her work reminded Jacob of how fragile and valuable life can be.

At that moment, Jacob's emotions were an internal whirlwind. He felt a mix of gratitude and guilt. He had gone through experiences that had brought him to the brink of death, lost loved ones, and had to fiercely fight for his own survival. Although he had managed to survive against all odds, the moral weight of having taken lives in extreme situations weighed heavily on him. He felt the moral burden of his actions, even if they had been in self-defense and desperate circumstances.

At that moment, Jacob stood at a turning point, facing the memories and consequences of his actions. Although he had survived, the emotional and mental scars remained, constantly reminding him of the horrors witnessed and the difficult decisions made.

He sighed deeply, trying to find calm amidst the internal storm. He knew he still had a long way to go to heal and find inner peace. No, rather, he had a short path ahead to channel all his negative emotions, and he knew where those emotions were directed.

Despite everything, remembering Foxface and Rue, Jacob's hands clenched tightly, to the point that his nails pierced his skin. Yes, in these games, he understood what lay ahead in his life and what the purpose of being in this place was. With what he knows and has, he will end every leech in this Capitol.

...

"I must say they are quite fast in what happens around me..." This thought came to Jacob's mind when he unintentionally injured his hands.

"[Master, there are hidden microphones and cameras in this room, transmitting the frequency to the rooms where the activities in this room are broadcast. There are two places, the first being the control room where the doctors are attentive 24 hours a day, and the second is President Snow's office!]"

"Hoo, I wasn't expecting that..."

Silence enveloped Jacob's room as the doctors worked on his hand, applying a special medicine to the wound he had caused himself minutes ago. The smell of disinfectant filled the air, creating a clinical and tranquil atmosphere. Jacob observed the process attentively, feeling a slight tingling in his hand as the medicine took effect. He didn't know exactly how long he had been asleep, but upon examining his body and noticing that most of his scars had disappeared, he realized it hadn't been for a short period of time.

Just as Jacob was preparing to stand up and explore his new reality, Portia entered the room accompanied by her assistants, who had been the stylists in charge of preparing him for the games. They brought with them a celebratory ribbon, radiating joy and pride as they congratulated Jacob on his victory.

"Jacob! Jacob! Jacob, the Prince of Blood!"

Upon hearing that sentence, Jacob looked at one of the stylists following Portia and asked, "What does that name mean?"

"Oh, dear, all of Panem calls you the Prince of Blood. Mostly, that was your appearance throughout the games, a noble and honorable participant who won the love of all the districts simply by being himself in the arena." Portia approached Jacob and briefly hugged him.

"Isn't it too exaggerated?" Still feeling strange, his responses were monotonous, but nobody paid much attention to it.

"Not really, your performance was admirable, and all the major sponsors bet on you. You won, and they won, so they're as happy as doves flying over beautiful barren landscapes." Portia was genuinely happy that Jacob and Katniss won the games.

"Have you seen Katniss?"

"Hmm, she should be with Cina right now. That's why I'm here. I'll make you look like a true prince of blood. Your outfit will be incredible."

The words of praise and confidence resonated in the room, reminding Jacob that he had been able to overcome the most difficult challenges and that his triumph had not gone unnoticed.

Jacob received the congratulations with gratitude, feeling a mix of emotions inside him. On one hand, he was grateful for the support and faith that Portia and her assistants had placed in him from the beginning. Knowing that they had believed in his ability to win the games and seeing him as a true victor was comforting and gave him strength to move forward.

However, he also felt a slight discomfort in the midst of the celebration. Remembering everything he had gone through to reach that moment, the lives he had taken and the horrors witnessed, generated a contradictory feeling within him. Although he had won the games and was now in a safer environment, the emotional and mental scars were still present, constantly reminding him of the sacrifices he had made.

Despite that, Jacob smiled sincerely and thanked Portia and her team for their unwavering support. He recognized that the victory was not only his, but also belonged to those who had been by his side throughout the journey. The sound of the celebration ribbon fluttering in the air resonated as a symbol of triumph and hope, a reminder that life could move forward despite adversity.

While Portia and her assistants continued to express their joy and celebrate, Jacob sat on the bed, reflecting on everything that had happened and the emotions that had flooded him in the recent moments. He knew that the path to recovery and healing was still long, but he felt determined to face it with courage and perseverance. The victory in the games had only been the beginning of his personal struggle, and he was willing to confront it head-on, finding inner peace and building a new future.

"[Master, President Snow has stopped monitoring him!]"

Jacob's cold eyes turned to the corner of the room, observing the hidden camera that his intelligent assistant had detected.

...

President Snow, with his cold and calculating personality, briefly observed Jacob from his office. He had closely followed the Hunger Games and was aware of the story of this young man from District 12. From the beginning, Snow had noticed something different about him. Jacob had voluntarily entered the games, giving the impression that he sought death as an escape. However, his survival had changed things.

Now, as he observed Jacob after the games, President Snow sensed a slight change in his behavior. There was something deep in the young man's eyes that indicated a transformation. Although Snow couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, he was intrigued. Had the experience of being on the brink of death caused that metamorphosis in Jacob?

Snow, always attentive to subtleties and opportunities for manipulation, decided to investigate further. He had noticed that Jacob no longer seemed like the same person who had volunteered for the games. Perhaps the proximity to death had triggered deep reflection in the young man, awakening emotions and thoughts that had previously been hidden.

For President Snow, this change represented an intriguing possibility. If Jacob had found some form of hope or acquired a different perspective on life, it could be used to his advantage. Snow wondered if he could exploit this transformation to consolidate his power and maintain control over the rebellious districts.

With a shrewd smile on his lips, President Snow set out to uncover what had truly happened in Jacob's mind and heart during his time in the games. He was determined to use any change in his attitude to his advantage, whether to keep him under his influence or to use him as an example to suppress hope and uprisings in the districts.

Jacob's fate now lay in the hands of President Snow, and the latter was ready to seize any opportunity that presented itself. With his characteristic cunning and manipulation, he prepared to delve into the secrets and motivations of Jacob, hoping to control even the most subtle transformations in the mind of the young victor.